Love Waits
by ewendt
Summary: Jane must navigate through the tragedy her job brings her and the terrible memories her personal life leaves her with. Will she find love? Will it wait for her? A/U from the exact storyline. Slow burn to Rizzles.
1. Chapter 1

**_I do not own Rizzzoli and Isles. There wil be angst and crime and rizzles. First fan fiction so please be aware._**

 ** _Monday morning 12pm_**

"Why is he here mother?" Jane is a step away from seething.

"Why is who here honey?" Angela Rizzoli is in the middle of stuffing shells. Her hands are covered in ricotta and herbs and cheese. The smell is a comfort to Jane. One of the lasts bits of comfort there is in this world. This as a rail yet food is till, as everyone else in the free world, a go to when she needs a moment's peace.

Jane stares at Angela. "You know who I mean Mother. Where's Tommy? You know the fucking murderer. Where your special boy mother."

"Look" Angela waves her hands wildly despite being covered with food, "We, you, have got to leave all that behind us, he went to war Jane. He risked his life. He was over there a whole year. He's a soldier. He's a hero, Jane. He regrets what he did. It was a lapse in judgement."

Jane shouts, "Mama, I'm a cop. I risk my life every day for this whole fucking city."

"Oh come on honey. Those men at that station keep their eyes on you. You ain't got nothing to worry about." Angela says with a sickeningly sweet voice.

"You don't even know how much I really hate you." Jane spits out.

"I just wish they would let you wear your hair down. You've always had such pretty hair. So thick. Look, it's a shame that it happened."

Jane pushes the newspaper off the table that she had been reading and stands up to leave.

Angela placates Jane for a moment, "Oh now stop that. If you hated me so much, you wouldn't come over here and eat at my table every week. But I get it. It's a shame that all those court shenanigans had to happen. I'm so glad it was private and the whole town didn't seen it happen…it just would have been a real shame, coulda been real bad, Jane. Him being a man and all."

Jane stands very still and stares at her mother. She starts to talk but catches herself. She purposely clears her throat and lowers her voice. "You know ma, even talking with you like this, I don't want to be here. I'm too chicken shit, even with this gun on my hip to eat it. I don't care if someone kills me. That's why I'm a good cop. I don't care. I chase these fuckers for miles I'm not confused. Despite everything, good and the bad and the fucking shenanigans, I still know that after all this time I still got nothing to give anybody. I got absolutely nothing. I watched what he did. I watched it and for that I live with the guilt every day. Where's his guilt. Ma? Where is it?"

Without even missing a beat Angela says, "Don't be so selfish Jane. I worry about you."

Jane turns and leaves, grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair, and silently walks to the door, as the front door slams, Jane's mother runs to the screen door and shouts out to Jane, "Without forgiveness you won't go to heaven. Remember that."

Jane gets into her cruiser without even looking back. She throws in it drive and speeds off, talking a right turn to leave the block she grew up on. Once out of her Mothers ignorant sight, she pulls over. Both hands are on the steering wheel. Ten and two o'clock, just like they teach you in the academy. Her head feels like she has been punched in the temples repeatedly, she sweating and red faced. Not crying. She is mentally numb. She thinks to herself that those people who commit suicide by death by cop have the right idea. Like she said to her mother, she is too chicken shit to kill herself. What's the point? She lays her head on the steering wheel. Her head is facing left so the heat of the center metal plate of it feels like she is burning her face. On purpose. Staring into space, her eye glances at a red pickup. A very pregnant woman is getting into the passenger side. Clothes too tight for her pregnant frame. Clearly too poor to buy maternity clothes. Too poor or doesn't care. Either not really a choice but a fact. Staring at this woman, she sees what looks like a bulge in the back of her pants. The woman's shirt is raised on her back, not reaching her waist. This is what makes it easier for Jane to spot what she wants to see. A gun. Now she has a distraction. She doesn't even call it in until she's half way there.

 ** _Monday 3pm_**

It's a Monday. Nothing good happens on a Monday. Jane had calmly walked up to the pregnant woman and arrested her for illegal gun possession. Upon entering the house that the suspect came from, she found a dead man in the living room. Once the whole crew got there, they processed the scene as usual and began the investigation. Nothing new. Very routine.

Anne Armstrong had been sitting in the interview room for an hour. Saying very little and drinking the coffee Jane had given here. She motioned for 8 sugars. Jane pretty much drinks the same so no judgement there. Anne easily weighed 250 pounds. Between the pregnancy and her already overweight body, she seemed, defeated. Jane thought to herself that the look on her face and her posture probably had nothing to do with the murder she most certainly had committed. They had already begun the investigation with a visit to the apartment that Anne lived in. A perfunctory investigation had turned up quite a bit of damning evidence. Seemed open and shut, which disappointed Jane. She had been hoping for something more complex. Something that would satisfy her drive and desire for distraction. This is what Jane excelled at.

At this point all that was needed was a confession and a match on the gun residue resting on Anne's hand. She was waiting for the ME, Maura Isles to come into the room with the positive results. Janes spent a lot time with the ME. Before Maura came up from the morgue, Jane decided to go in and talk to Anne. Why waste time she thought to herself. She and her partner Vince Korsack, a portly man with kind eyes, entered hesitantly. She began once she sat down directly across from Anne.

"Anne." Jane says quietly. "We found a page from your diary in amongst your things. You have been thinking and talking about Christopher for close to 30 years now." Anne shifts in her seat. Her weight, causing the chair to creak. Jane can tell she is nervous. Nervous that the chair might break under her weight. Jane is pained by this. This woman. This possible murder suspect has been under the worlds thumb her entire life. Abused and neglected and ignored. Jane knows she's guilty. She just needs the confession. Jane can't help but think that the confession might give some peace to Anne. Maybe even a feeling other than self-hate. Jane, "I'm just going to read it Anne."

Jane clears her throat. A lump had formed. "Dear Diary, I'm so glad that duct taping you to the top of my closest didn't ruin the paper on the front. I know Luke is trying to find anything to torture me with. I hate him. I was thinking that if I talk to Christopher at school, I will have to make a good impression with my charm. Clearly he doesn't like fat girls, so I will have to make up for it somehow. I have nice hair. I can smell good. My clothes are tight but only because my mom buys them too small to force me to stop eating. Why is she so mean? My stomach hurts sometimes they are so tight.

Anyway, back to the good stuff. If I sat next to Christopher and I could talk to him with him turning and making fun of me, I would say:

If you aren't good at guessing games we probably shouldn't be friends. I'm fraught with questions. . I realize by saying this I have intrigued you and now you are most likely wanting to be my boyfriend. I can't actually date because we are too young, but I will consider you a friend until our angst reaches its peak and then we can crash into each other like the people on television. We will kiss and rubs our hands on each other's backs. Like on Dynasty or Dallas. Ugh. My mother is home and screaming my name. I have to go. I hate her. Anne."

Jane sat back and watched. Anne let a single tear fall from her eyes and spoke. "He wanted nothing to do with me once he found out I was pregnant." I loved him.

"I understand Anne. Can you tell me what happened?" Jane asked.

"I shot him. That's what happened. He found out I was pregnant and wouldn't let me near him. He was disgusted." Anne stated factually.

Jane looked at Anne, with a knowingly nauseated stare and asked Anne, "Is the baby your brother Luke's?"

Anne rubbed her swollen baby and said simply with no remorse, "yes."

 ** _Monday 5pm_**

Jane sat in the confession booth. She remained silent for some time until the priest had to clear his throat signaling to her that she was at this point, taking up his time. "Father. I just. Am I deceived by God? I think the violence in my world…Do I retreat from it? Do I go towards it? If it's not happening to me why do care so fucking much?"

The priest began to talk, "My child…" but was quickly cut off by Jane. "Do I have a shot at redemption? I want to let people in. I do. My secrets are too deep and too dangerous. I can't think of a single person that would want to know or invest anytime in me. That's a lie. I just. Who wants to listen to me and my inevitable boring selfishness? I would like a coffee. Maybe I will have enough time to grab a cupcake at the new place before I catch my train. Thanks Father." Jane makes the sign of the cross and bolts out the confessional with a purposeful walk.

 ** _Monday 10pm_**

After getting the much desired coffee and 2 cupcakes, Jane and Frankie are slouching in their unmarked cruiser 2 blocks down from where they are sitting and waiting for their perp to come home. For cops this is the perfect time to have the dumbest conversations. Partners get to know one another. They end up closer with their partners than with their spouses. My work wife. My work husband. Phrases that are more than accurate. Frankie, drinking a hot tea, a fact he is mercifully tortured for back at the precinct, begins the first of many conversations for the night.

"I'm pretty sure that the only women, who chew gum actively, specifically are Americans. More specifically, southern women, spearmint, and Latin women juicy fruit, and black women, fruity or from a blow pop. Bet I could get a grant to study this. "

"You should be studied Frankie." Jane says with a smirk that accentuates her dimple eight miles deep.

"Right" Frankie says and proceeds to take a burning sip of his tea, "Damn. I fucking burned myself."

"Sooth the burn with your scone." Jane deadpans.

Frankie just stares at Jane and whispers under his breath. Nothing coherent but just loud enough for Jane to feel her arrow hit his ego deep enough to leave a small bruise. Target hit.

"Let's get out of here. He's not coming Frankie." Jane says.

"What a bust of a night. Wanna get a beer?"

"Yeah. I'm going to call the doc." Jane says matter of factly. "She earned one today as well."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

On the way to Boston Commons, Jessica Ly had her hands in his blue jacket pockets. It was one of those jackets that was thinly puffy. But a knockoff. He was wearing a painter's hat with Israel written on the side. She was Korean. He was Chinese. A gold barrette in her hair, probably from a dollar store. Gold is too shiny. He's tall so he must look down. Into her eyes. She looks up. Taking in his face. Observing him. A new relationship. Very affectionate. Not quite cool but happy.

Part of their day is spent on the trains.

"I have missed you," she started to say (Jessica has only been in the U.S. for three years so her English isn't perfect), but is interrupted by the crowd pushing her as they get off the train. She had to step out in order for them to get out. She follows the small crowd back into the train.

"What did you say before?" He questions.

"Nothing." she says. "I just missed you today."

He doesn't reply as he is looking around above her head. He grabs her hand and whispers, "Here's our stop."

She leaned heavy on him as he started to walk off the train.

"Come on babe, we got to go."

He didn't even realize she was dead until her head fell back and he saw the bullet hole through her forehead.

Jane saunters up to the crime scene. Her face had the expression of pain. Not physical pain, but you could tell she was heavy with a burden that was evident. Her clothes were wrinkled and her boots were dirty. Her long black hair that is so beautiful when taken care of is greasy and pulled back into a rat's nest of a ponytail. Frost notices her 5 feet from the train car and walks toward her.

"What's going on with you? Were you at the gym? Damn, you ok?"

Jane asks him, "Yeah why?"

"You look like shit Jane. Like you been crying. Have you been…crying?"

"Crying, Frost? Fuck you. Crying, really?"

Frost answers back quickly, "I'm serious, Jane what the fuck is your problem today?"

Jane runs her hand over her face and reties the ponytail, "I'm fine. I just decided to have an existential crisis in the middle of my shift yesterday. Cavanaugh said to talk to the Eldridge projects super for that Jenkins cold case, which I've already done and yes it did piss me off that he apparently thinks that I have missed something. Then at lunch, mother Rizzoli had Tommy around the house and then Boom." Jane starts to laugh a little bit at what she is actually confessing to Frost and then, as always deflects with a smart ass remark, "And I just redid my eye-make up and now you're asking me…a girl can catch a complex from you Frost."

Frost, clearly annoyed with her says, "Ok, fine go to work. If you need anything, let me know."

"No, I'm not asking you for anything, because if I do everyone will think that I am a pussy."

Frost says, "Want me to shoot you so they think that's why your brooding and swollen."

"No, but thank you asshole. Ok, enough with the chit chat, what do we have?"

The body of the woman killed is lying in between the doors of the subway car. It took 30 minutes to get the damn doors to stop opening and closing on the poor woman. Later in the autopsy report, the bruises will be notes as post mortem curtesy of the Boston subway system. Jane. She steps into the car and starts to take in the scene. Blood splatter around the perimeter of the door. Some of the blood on the ground has been smeared by people who, no doubt had been trying to get out of the car once they saw that someone had been shot. Taking the scene apart. Looking at every angle as a puzzle piece. The best way to describe Jane on a crime scene is to look through the lens of a microscope. Jane sees every little piece of the scene. Are the shoes the victim is wearing new? Is her hair clean and what kind of earrings is she wearing, all of these things add up to the sum of the parts that make up this woman.

Theories start to form in her head and she wants this one to be difficult. She needs a tough one. She thinks it will be. She needs to talk to the ME.

"Korsack, where is the doc?"

"I'm right here Detective Rizzoli. I got caught up in traffic. I was on the other side of town dealing with a homicide on the west side with Detective Crowe." Dr. Isles says in the most soothing voice Jane has ever heard.

Jane enjoys the warm feeling she gets around Maura Isles. She's a grown woman. She has always found the Medical Examiner attractive, but being a lesbian on the Boston police force made it hard to interact with other woman on staff. She never wanted to seem overly interested or overly friendly for fear that someone will take it the wrong way. She had developed a professional friendship with Dr. Isles, hitting the local cop watering hole for the occasional after work drink. Sometimes they would end up in the department's gym and work out together. Jane would be lying if she hadn't had a fantasy or two about the doc. Dr. Maura Isles was quirky. Different. Jane never minded the doctors unique personality. She often thought that perhaps Maura had Asperger's. She was certainly smart enough and engaging, even if she was socially awkward. Jane had seen Dr. Isles leaving the precinct to go on a dates before. She has even seen Maura getting picked up a few times, by Jane's estimation, by uptight bland upscale men. Boring is the term that Jane thought to herself. Maura seems so dynamic why she would go out with stiffs, Jane never understood. There has been a few times where Jane thought that Dr. Isles was flirting with her, but she put that out of her mind. She's just being friendly, Jane thought. She's out of my league and straight as an arrow. Why on earth, even if she were gay would she entertain going out with a temperamental blue collar bitch like Jane Rizzoli?

"Hey Maura. Tough morning with douche bag?" Jane asks referring to Detective Crowe, a guy known for being a shoddy cop as well as total misogynistic asshole.

"As much as Detective Crowe challenges my professionalism, the case is somewhat open and shut. There is not much for him to mess up. At least from my perspective."

Jane asks, "Other than that, how has your morning been?"

"Good Very good actually. I have made a decision that I have been struggling with and I have come to the conclusion that I should take a leap as they say." Maura says.

Jane stares for a second at Maura and offers up, "Well. Good, I'm glad. Right. I'm glad. You want me to be glad right?"

"Jane do you want to get dinner sometime?"

"Yeah, Sure, why not? " Jane responds not looking up from Maura's shoes, which on any given day, show off the woman's legs.

"Ok."

" Ok. Maura. Dinner it is. Tonight after work?"

"Like a date, Jane."

"Like a date? " Jane asks.

"No?"

"No.?" Jane says.

"Oh." Maura says disappointed.

"No! I mean yes Maura."

"Yes?" Maura questions confused.

"Yes." Jane says with a smile.

"Yes." The smile on Maura's face spoke volumes to Jane.

Vince Korsack interrupts the romantic bubble that the two women had been in, "Ok, now that you ladies have that figured out. What? You didn't realize you were standing over a dead body in the middle of a very populated crime scene? "

Maura immediately drops down to examine the body and Jane stands there not cognizant of what just happened until Korsack pushes her out of the way.

"Jesus Jane, go interview the boyfriend." Korsack says.

Jane walks away but turns and smiles at Korsack who returns the smile at her knowingly. He knows that the little moment of flirtation has lightened her day.

As Jane walks by Frost, holding a donut he stupidly makes a comment to anyone that can hear him, "And wow, did everyone see Jane's smile?"

The second he said it he knew he shouldn't have and oh what he wouldn't give to get those words back. Jane abruptly turns around and slithers over to Frost, mind you the whole team is there..."Frost, do you realize that you eat all the time? I mean all the time?"

Standing there with powdered sugar on his tie, Frost just nods and squeaks out, "I do. I am often hungry."

Giggles start somewhere near the door of the train car they are in, on top of the looks being shot at Frost. Frost finishes the donut in one bite and walks over to Korsack questioning, "You think I was too soon?"

"Huh?" Korsack says.

"You think I was too soon." Frost deadpans.


	3. Chapter 3

A quick chapter...

"What just a happened this morning? Maura asked me out. She's asked ME out. Oh shit, Maura asked me out. I'm gay. She's gay? She dates guys. Does she think I'm a guy? I'm not sure what to do with this information."

Frankie stared at her. "Did you mean to say all that out loud? Because if you did, you need to get a friend. I'm your brother. This is not my field of study, Jane and her inner romantic monologue."

"I just never thought. She likes me you know. I've had fantasies but never really thought..."

"Jane! Seriously shut up. The word fantasize should never be uttered by you in front of me unless we are talking about the Sox. Because I too fantasize about being their starting pitcher. But that's it."

Jane and Frankie sat in the unmarked car eating her sandwich while keeping her eyes peeled for their perp. Second day in a row they have been waiting for this jackass.

"What are you eating Jane?"

"Chicken parm, why, you want some?"

"Oh yeah I do"

"Well, tough shit, cause in my mind its Maura, mmmmm."

"You are an ass-"

Frankie's come back is cut short by Jane's phone ringing. She chuckles as she answers the iPhone, "its Korsack," she says to Frankie, "Hey Vince, what's up?"

"Jane, got some info on our train Vic, my CI who lucky enough lives around the corner from her, says she was tricked out by Hunter O'Reilly and his boys. CI says they passed her around until she broke. Boyfriend had no idea of her past. Talk about a shocker. I'm thinking payback. The shot was, now that I'm thinking about it, in a more execution style."

Jane says, "God. Can you imagine how scared she must have been when she left? Not all Irish thugs are created equal."

Shots ring out and the front windshield shatters in their faces. Jane throws the car in reverse and tries to get out of the parking spot as quickly as possible as they take on more and more gunfire. Frankie grabs the radio, "Victor 913 shots fired on the corner of Prince and Mercer, shots fired." They are both leaning down as far out of the shot line as possible, Jane turns the wheels left so they are slammed diagonally into the cars behind them creating a bigger cover zone for them to hide behind. Out of the corner of her eye, Jane sees a civilian in a 3-piece suit grabbing his throat literally bleeding out in front of her.

"Frankie, on the left" she screams.

Frankie runs over to the man, dragging him to ground and pulling him toward the car for cover. He grabs the radio again, dispatch bus needed, victim shot. Repeat, a bus is needed. Sir! It's going to be ok, hold the wound with my jacket to stop the bleeding." Frankie rips his coat off and by the time he gets it on the man, the poor bastards eyes are vacant.

"Aw shit Jane, he's dead."

Jane has been returning fire this entire time. She can't see who the shots are coming from. It's dark and some of the streetlights have been shot out.

Silence. It takes Frankie and Jane a moment to process that all of a sudden there is silence. Not a shot, no scurrying of feet trying to get away.

Frankie turns to Jane, "what the hell just happened?"

"I have no idea but I'm seriously pissed off. Why do I feel that this had nothing to do with this perp we are watching out here tonight. This feels Irish."

Jane picks up the phone while still holding her gun at the ready,"Korsack, we just took fire...ok, I'll see you soon." Jane turns to see Frankie covered in blood, "OH my God, are you hit?" Jane screams while patting her brother down.

"Jane no, it's the Vic on the ground. He bled out. It got on me. You in the other hand," Frankie starts to assess the glass shards sticking out of Jane's forehead and arms. "You need to go to the hospital. You're gonna need some serious stitches."

Mass General Hospital is a place Jane knows well. Broken arm is 5th grade was set in this very emergency room. The walls are no longer puke green but it's got the same smell and the air still reminds her of her Nona when she was sick at the end. Bleached sheets and body odor. She thinks back to the time she busted out her front tooth when she took Tommie's elbow straight on during one of their many childhood tumbles. Jane remembers the disgusting taste of peroxide in her mouth. Nothing worse.

The nurse assigned to stitch her up starts to set up the sutures. The privacy curtain is suddenly pushed back. Jane looks up from staring at her cut forearm to see Maura standing there. In that moment Jane notices that despite looking tired and overworked, there is a hint of concern and care in Maura's eyes. Maura looks from Jane to the nurse and says, "I'm Dr. Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner for the commonwealth of Massachusetts. I'd like to do those please."


End file.
